


alabaster & ebony

by WhiteTeethTeens



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Songfic, different stages of their lives, domestic boyfriends i guess, some slow-burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:25:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteTeethTeens/pseuds/WhiteTeethTeens
Summary: Theodore Nott wasn't introverted.He was more of an anxious person which, causally, made him an introvert.“Theo?”, a quiet, from sleepiness raucous voice whispered into the dark of the night and the dormitory, “Theodore? Are you still awake?”-Recently, I listened to a lot of songs that all reminded me in different ways of Theodore and Blaise.These prompts are mostly incoherent and do not follow a certain chronically order, can be read as a story or as little stages of their lives.





	1. We come around here all the time - got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, I listened to a lot of songs that all reminded me in different ways (at least certain lines, not gonna lie here) of Theodore and Blaise, mostly from Theodore's point of view or his emotions so I decided to write a few prompts which are connected to these songs/lyrics. These prompts are mostly incoherent and do not follow a certain chronically order, can be read as a story or as little stages of their lives and are inspired by the (I guess with that canon) Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini this fandom has created on tumblr and ao3.
> 
>  
> 
> I am not quite sure if this can be called a song-fic, feel free to ignore the lyrics or listen to the song while reading.

you can also read this on tumblr [here](https://janvsfaced.tumblr.com/post/163996736242/alabaster-ebony).

 

 

 

> **We come around here all the time  
>  Got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you **

Theodore Nott wasn't introverted.

He was more of an anxious person which, causally, _made_ him an introvert.

 

He never knew if it was a thing that came genetically to him or if he was just traumatized by his mother's death that left him to his father's fist and abominations.

 

It was one of those nights, Theodore was anxious.

Not because he had just woken up screaming from an incredibly terrifying and hurtful nightmare.

 

No, Theodore Nott wasn't able to sleep. Which was, he had to admit, something quite new for him.

He was just laying awake, staring at the green curtains around his bed like they were going to tell all the answers he needed in a few seconds and if he looked away, he would miss them.

His chest and legs clenched at the thought of a world which wasn't as threatening as his own.

When he was younger he used to spent numerous nights laying awake and dreaming about a world with his mother in it and without his father's fist, encountering his skin and shattering the last glimpses of hope.

Until it became too exhausting. Until everything became too exhausting.

 

Theodore then began to keep his head down, vanishing to the background whenever he was surrounded by people.

He never was interested in gangs or certain groups of friends but when his eyes locked with the gaze of _him_ on the train of his first year he suddenly was sure about what safety felt like.

 

First they were nothing else but acquaintances, sitting next to each other in numerous classes trying to keep up with the subject materials they were taught.

 

But now, oh Merlin, Theodore was lost.

 

The only thing he dreamed about now, late nights and laying awake, was that his father was proud.

That he was proud when the two of them would apparate into the Nott Manor and his father would take a look at his beautiful and soft skin, darker than his favourite chocolate and appreciate his son's decis-

 

“Theo?”, a quiet, from sleepiness raucous voice whispered into the dark of the night and the dormitory, “Theodore? Are you still awake?”

 

Theodore wasn't brave enough to turn his head to the side and look trough the small gap of his curtains.

He wasn't brave enough to look into his eyes.

Theodore wasn't brave enough to say anything. He wasn't brave enough to tell him.

 

So he just closed his eyes and prayed to God or whoever was up there in the sky and wasn't willing to help him through this hell, to make Blaise fall a sleep again.

 

And even though Theodore tried, oh Lord _how he tried,_ to fall asleep again he was laying awake until the sun rose, thinking about a future so bright it made his eyes water and his chest burn in anticipation.

 

 

 

 

> **I'd like it if you stayed**

 


	2. this can't be love he said, still he stood there with his feet

>  
> 
>  
> 
> **This can't be love he said, still he stood there with his feet**

 

“So, you're really going back, doing your N.E.W.T.s?”, Pansy looked at him, her lips curled to a caring smile, the black lipstick she had applied before was slightly crumbling.

Theodore nodded.

“Oh, that's – quite something”, she looked into her mug like she was searching for something.

They were sitting in a small coffee shop in London surrounded by Muggles.

 

“Will Blaise be there too?”, he interrupted her and the useless stuff about Draco, he didn't care about _at all_. Not now.

 

She looked at him. Blinked once.

Twice.

A third time.

 

 

Theodore felt every nerve in his body burning. He shouldn't have asked that. She knew. At least _now_ she knew.

 

“I assume so, yes. What even-”

 

“I have to leave. It was nice seeing you”, Theo stood up and hastily slipped into his coat, clearing his throat.

“See you in a few weeks.”

 

Pansy looked at him leaving the shop while Theodore trailed himself to the nearest bench and sat down, eyes raised to the cloudy sky while he tried to calm and control his breathing.

 

This wasn't as bright as he imagined it to be.

This was pure torture.

 

A few passengers walked by and looked at the lanky and slender young man who sat down on a bench in a long, black and terribly expensive appearing coat, staring into the sky like he was possessed with something up there.

 

> **Even when you lie to me it's in your eyes, I can see that**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Can't Be Love, Anna Rune


	3. oh you and I safe from the world though the world will try

>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Oh you and I safe from the world though the world will try**

 

 

“I heard he has seen his father dying last year.”

 

“Someone told me he also was a death eater.”

 

 

Theodore didn't look down this time. He didn't keep his head down.

He raised his chin up like he was trying to reach the clouds. He looked at them, pretended to be strong and tough while indeed on the inside he wasn't. His legs were shaking as he walked down platform 9 ¾, his silver and green tie marked him like a hunter marks a dear while he's on a hunt. He wasn't able to overhear their whispers.

He didn't need them and yet he was trying to convince them of something he clearly wasn't.

He hated himself for that. He didn't understand his mind for this traitorous decision.

But he never did. His mind was a mace and he forgot how he got in the middle of it, lost in it a long time ago.

 

 

“Actually, I heard that-”, _oh shut up, you-_

 

“Theodore?”

 

 

Theodore felt like he would pass out every second.

 

“Would you like to come with me?”, a slim, dark hand reached out for his, “The others are already on the train.”

 

 

He turned his head and looked at Blaise, a slight smile curled his lips.

And Blaise was sure that Theodore hasn't smiled in years, because just as Theodore he knew that it was genuine for once.

 

 

 

> **I'm afraid of the things in my brain but we can stay here and laugh away the fear**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intertwined by Dodie


	4. they say only the good die young, that just ain't right

>  
> 
>  
> 
> ** They say only the good die young  
> That just ain't right  
>  **

 

“Theodore, are you alright?”, Narcissa gently laid her hand, which was covered with a black laced glove, on his arm.

He wanted to say a thousand things but instead he felt his mouth and throat becoming drier and drier.

“It is alright”, she said quietly after a while of silence and just standing there, before she carefully stroked his upper arm and leaving him alone in front of his father's grave.

 

“ _You are such a disappointment, my son!”, his breath smelled like Firewhiskey._

“ _Father, I promise that-”_

“ _Do I look like I care about your pathetic promises? All you ever do is to put my name to shame! You disgust me, Theodore!”_

“ _Dunstan, it's alright. All he has done was dropping a plate.”, Narcissa tried._

“ _Just look into his eyes, 'Cissa! He does not even feel guilty at all!”, his father spit._

 

“Oh, and Theodore?”, she turned around one last time, her eyebrows narrowed, “Do never feel guilty, will you?”

>  
> 
> **So there's no need for us to hesitate  
>  We're all alone, let's take control **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lust For Life by Lana Del Rey and The Weeknd


	5. I could see for miles, miles, miles

Theodore sighed as he heard someone turning around in its bed, gasping quietly in pain.

It was Blaise. Theodore didn't even has to look to the left, he simply knew it.

 

Today their team had a Quidditch match against the Gryffindor's and a Bludger caught Blaise's right side and nearly threw him off his broom. Theodore, who sat on the stands, was tremendously afraid and felt dizzy but the older one immediately pulled himself together and continued chasing one of the Gryffindor's who was in control of the Quaffle.

He could've sworn that the other had some smashed bones (most likely a few ribs), but he indeed was way too proud and vain to admit that on the one hand he was probably was _in pain like hell_ and on the other hand that he was no longer able to keep himself on that fucking broom. He even hesitated to see Madame Pomfrey _“I am fine, calm down“_ , it didn't matter who urged him to do so.

 

But now, Lord was it _annoying_ to hear him sleeplessly rolling around in his bed. Just because he was on such a fucking high horse. Just because he didn't want others to see that he was in pain, that he was _vulnerable_.

This was literally -

 

“Blaise?”, Theodore murmured into the dark.

 

Silence. Theodore groaned.

 

“I know you're awake, you _twat_ ”, he really tried to make it sound as pissed as possible but it rather and _clearly_ sounded more tenderly than it could've ever been intended to.

 

“What do you want, Nott?”, he could literally _feel_ the pain in his voice.

 

“Let me help you.”

 

 

Silence. Again.

 

 

Theodore heard a quiet _Lumos_ before one of his curtains got pulled to the side.

 

“I could've also just moved to yours”, he muttered and sat up a bit, creating some space for Blaise.

 

“It's alright, Theo”, the other one spoke through clenched teeth and crawled on his bed.

 

Theodore grabbed his wand from his nightstand and looked at Blaise. And _oh God_ , did it hurt seeing him like this.

 

“I can't promise that I'll be able to fully fix this. Might be necessary to still go and see Pomfrey”, he whispered uncertainly.

 

“Theodore?”, they both stared at each other.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I trust you.”

 

 

> **  
> And at once I knew I was not magnificent hulled far from the highway aisle**   
>  **I could see for miles, miles, miles**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holocene by Bon Iver


	6. It's just another graceless night I hate the headlines and the weather

>  
> 
>  
> 
> **It's just another graceless night I hate the headlines and the weather**

 

 

Theodore was raised to keep his family's reputation.

 

He wasn't quite sure if he was really doing this the moment he entered the club in Muggle-London, Pansy and Draco by his side.

After the war, right after his father died, he really tried to fulfil any anticipations.

 

This ended right here. In a club full of muggles. Hating those  _ filthy people  _ didn't really help gaining any reputation, neither him nor Pansy or Draco. So they tried.

They tried not mocking them any more, they tried  _ fully _ respecting them, knowing about the outcome if they didn't.

The music was blasting through the speakers as Pansy handed him a shot of vodka and  _ whatever this was it tasted like shit. _

 

Theodore found himself, a couple of shots later, leaning against the bar watching the club dance more or less rhythmically to the music. He snorted.

He should've stayed at home.

 

It took him some more shots to find himself _right in the middle of the fucking club,_ giggling and grinding against someone who's name was Francis. Francis had red hair, like fucking fire and Theodore felt like he was flying.

He felt that describing it as _flying_ was quite accurate. Except that he felt dizzy and tired. Pansy laughed at him, Draco was at the bar.

His ass was grinding against the crotch of Mr. Firelord Francis and _fuck, did he missed this._

Theodore felt his chest vibrating to the rhythm, heard his laughter cutting through the steamy indoor air.

 

He didn't feel judged.

 

He didn't feel controlled even though Pansy _may or may not_ has arranged this certain situation when he was just too drunk to recognize.

 

He didn't feel like he could disappoint anyone, because the only person he always disappointed back then was dead.

 

For a swift moment, a few seconds he felt like cheated on _someone,_ but Hair On Fire-Franics would soon grab his hips and pull him closer and Theodore would just let himself fall into a situation and for someone, who he knew, could never replace something so much better.

 

 

> **But when we're dancing I'm alright, it's just another graceless night**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perfect Places by Lorde


	7. Let it be, baby breathe I swear I'm right here  - we'll be good, I promise, we'll be so good

>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Let it be, baby breathe I swear I'm right here**
> 
> **We'll be good, I promise, we'll be so good**

 

Theodore sweated. Not only because it was over 30° inside Blaise's room on a friday night during summer holidays of the sixth year.

 

They started making-out nearly an hour ago because in Theodore's opinion Blaise looked unfortunately hot in his burgundy silk pyjama pants, stripped to the waist and because in Blaise's opinion Theodore looked atrociously hot in a grey oversized shirt and dark blue shorts.

 

“Shit, baby”, Blaise moaned quietly, “You're so hot, you look so beautiful under me”

And _fuck_ , did Theodore's face toned red due to this and _fuck_ , did his cock twitch.

Blaise caressed his cheek, sloppily groping his chin and left cheek before placing tender and small kisses on his soft skin, kissing down his upper body to his nipples, gently and patiently pounding deeper into him.

 

Theodore moaned and threw his head back into the pillow, one hand buried into the other's dark hair, the other hand lazily spread over his face to cover his blushing cheeks and to muffle his moans.

 

Blaise's lips passionately brushed over his before they kissed again, hungrily and demanding.

 

And shit, was Theodore _lost._

 

“Do I make you feel good?”, Blaise whispered in his ear, his voice soaked and throaty with lust and nibbled on his earlobe.

Theodore hummed affirmatively and pushed himself against Blaise, their heated and sweaty chests pressed together.

 

Blaise thrust deeper into him, hitting the spot that made Theodore's eyes widen, his mouth falling open and moaning loudly in pleasure.

His face turned red and he was _so embarrassed_ that he became so loud. Blaise chuckled quietly.

“Do you want me to do that again?”

“Fuck, y-yes please.”

 

Theodore felt a strong thrust hitting this certain spot again, his eyes rolled back and his belly burned with desire.

It was like Theodore suddenly felt all shame and embarrassment clinging on his mind before falling off his shoulders.

 

“Do you want me to make you feel much better?”, Blaise pressed his forehead against Theo's, their gazes intertwined, Theodore panted slightly against his lips.

 

“ _Oh God, yes._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High For This by The Weeknd


	8. I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before

>  
> 
>  
> 
> **I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before  
>  Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all **

 

Theodore wouldn't admit that he was indeed hurt. And that he was afraid.

He was afraid of what would happen if his father found out, that he wasn't invited to the Slug Club. Or to the dinner the potions professor held this very evening.

He knew that his skin, already broken an shattered into pieces, would meet his father's fist again once he found out.

But Theodore also knew that his father was the reason he wasn't invited.

He felt anger and pain rushing through his veins, setting his chest on fire and causing his stomach to knot.

 

But even worse was, that Blaise was invited. Not that he _grudged_ Blaise this chance or that he was jealous, he really wasn't, he did not need any _club_ or a _more or less secret_ supper party to feel admired or talented. He knew that he was good. Probably he wouldn't even attended this stupid _thing_ Slughorn was holding.

 

Theodore knew that what actually made his body tremble so hard was _how_   he heard from this dinner.

 

Something inside him hoped Blaise would've told him instead of some stupid student Theodore couldn't even remember the face of.

 

In a way he felt betrayed even though he knew that it was terribly childish, immature and made everything needlessly complicated. Blaise probably had his reasons.

 

Maybe he didn't want to hurt Theodore and lied on purpose.

 

But maybe that was indeed what he wanted to do. _Hurt him._

 

Theodore flinched.

 

 _No_. Blaise wouldn't do such things. But what if -

 

Maybe Blaise asked to bring him but Slughorn denied.

 

 

He was so afraid that people actually hated _him_ for who his father was.

He was afraid of being all alone, even though he often thought that it was different.

Theodore didn't need other people anyways. But maybe? Just one or two? His friends? Maybe? Just a little?

 

He felt miserable. Miserably credulous.

He doubted his skills at potion's class.

He judged his feelings for taking over his intellect, his intelligence.

 

 

Theodore felt like drowning in his thoughts this night until the door of the dormitory went shut again late at night and he heard sheets rustle next to him.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One And Only by Adele


	9. but when the fear comes and I drift towards the ground, I am lucky that you're around

>  
> 
>  
> 
> **But when the fear comes and I drift towards the ground  
>  I am lucky that you're around   
> **

 

“ _Theodore, come on!We have to leave!”, Pansy begged screaming, pulled the sleeve of his shirt._

_Other students rushed down the hallway, screaming or silent due to panic, barging into Theodore and bumping him against the wall._

 

“ _Where's Blaise? We cannot leave without him!”_

 

_Some students stared at them distractedly, frightened to death, their gazed questioning why they didn't flee._

 

“ _Fuck it, I don't even know where Malfoy is!”_

 

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, Theodore attempted to fight his way in the opposite direction, through the people heading towards the evacuation._

 

“ _Shit, Theodore, wait for me!”, Pansy grabbed his arm, tried to ignore the shattering building around them._

 

 

Theodore felt himself break into shivers as he remember this one certain day.

He was pretty sure that Blaise dreamed about it again, laying next to Theodore sweating and rolling around, messing up the sheets while he mumbled something about fire.

 

Actually, the evening started pretty fine.

Theodore came back from his shift at Mungo's, Blaise had cooked (Merlin, has he had improved his cooking) and they shared a bottle of wine before they went to bed.

It was 3 am by now. Blaise had a nightmare and Theo knew, he could do nothing against it.

 

“ _There they are!”, the corridor was empty except of Malfoy and Zabini._

_They leaned against a crumbling wall, shock written on their faces, lungs tried to snatch air. Crabbe and Goyle were missing._

_Theodore's heart felt like someone was pinching, stabbing it with a thousand needles as soon as he stood next to Blaise._

“ _By Merlin, what happened?”, Parkinson yelled, already reaching out for Malfoy's hand to get them out of there._

_Draco kept quie, his mouth opened a bit like he was trying to answer._

“ _Fire, the fire”, Blaise whispered, his sight kept to the ground._

_Theodore stared at him, didn't knew what to answer but that they had to run when he heard the massive stones behind them crumble._

 

“Fire, the fi-”, Theodore knew what was to come next.

Blaise screamed. It tore Theodore's heart apart. As always.

“It's fine, I am here”, he whispered, gently placing a hand on Blaise's forehead.

His skin was a hot and soaked in sweat, his eyebrows narrowed agonisedly.

Theodore didn't even considered to wake him up any more, he knew that it would confuse his boyfriend even more.

 

It's been years and Blaise never found the strength nor the words to explain what he has witnessed in the Room of Requirements that day.

Theodore didn't need to know. He knew that Blaise trusted him and he trusted Blaise, they gave each other time to handle the things they had to live with in the past.

 

Even though that this meant that it would hurt.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helium by Sia


	10. in front of you and hide my soul

> **In front of you and hide my soul  
>  Cause you're the only one who knows it **

 

 

Theodore refused to accept the term of being a tosser.

He started to acquire that terrible habit the night after his mother was murdered. And he was ashamed of it.

 

He could remember the first time it appeared perfectly.Not only that he had been terrified by his mother's screams he heard in his nightmare, no he woke up to _warm and disgustingly wet_ shorts.

He was so confused and loathed that he didn't know how to react, just sat on his bed and stared down at the mess he made, so it was just a matter of time until his father noticed his little incident.

Theodore could barely remember what exactly his father yelled at him and how he made him ashamed of something he had zero control of, but what he could remember was that he apologized the morning after.

It was the last time he ever did.

 

And now, Theodore wetted himself again. It didn't happen once during his time at Hogwarts. Immediately, Theodore felt fear climbing up his spine, worrying if he might be seriously sick, that he caught something and that he would wet his bed again every night.

 

Blaise snorted next to him, still asleep and wrapped into his blanket.

 

Theodore was ashamed again. He was disgusted. And he couldn't move.

 

“Fuck”, he whispered, wrinkled his nose while he regarded his wet shorts which stuck to his legs.

 

“Fuck, fuck”, he felt his eyes getting wet too, “ _Shit_.”

 

And then he cried. Silently a few tears ran down his cheeks while he still couldn't move his gaze from the soaked mattress and blanket. This was so inappropriate but he couldn't hold it back. The whole situation was just too much. It was humiliating.

 

The sheets next to him rustled and Blaise's bedside lamp illuminated the dark room.

 

“Theo, are you alright?”, his boyfriend asked quietly and sat up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“ _Oh_ ”, he murmured when he recognized the tears streaming down Theo's face and it didn't take him long to realize the reason.

 

“Baby, stop crying”, it didn't work. Actually it made Theodore cry even more. He felt so ashamed, Blaise wasn't supposed to see _this_.

“Handsome, _hey_ ”, Blaise moved over to Theodore's side of the bed and pulled him close his chest, gently stroking his back, “It's alright.”

 

“No, it's not”, Theodore choked.

“It is, this can happen.”

 

Blaise did his best to calm him down, helped him to control his breath.

 

“How about, you go to the bathroom and change your clothes and I will change the sheets and duvet cover?”

 

Theodore nodded exhausted and when he came back to the bedroom, Blaise already sat in between the changed sheets, nearly half asleep.

 

“I made you a cup of tea”, he yawned, “It's valerian.”

 

>  
> 
> **And I will hide behind my pride  
>  I don't know why I think I can lie **
> 
>  
> 
>  

  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screen by Twenty One Pilots
> 
> _
> 
> So that's it.  
> If you came that far - thank you very much for your time!  
> (my philosophy tutor once said, that every time people listen to our thoughts or read what we’ve written, they gift us a little piece of their lifetime and we have to be incredibly thankful for that, so yeah, thank you)
> 
> Feel free to leave to leave kudos, a comment or contact me via tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> 400 Lux by Lorde


End file.
